Northwest

The black rubber of the mask dug into her face, the weight of it making her head heavy and slow. By now she was used to the effort required to breath, the constant feeling of being out of breath and the hiss of air sucked through the filters. Looking through the glass of the door, she could see the fog glowing orange with the last rays of the moon's reflected light. It swirled and coiled around the ground as if looking for prey.

The vapor looked every bit as malevolent as it was. She shuddered thinking about the thin layer of plastic that would be the only thing between her skin and that nightmare. As she finished tucking her curls under the white plastic hood she checked her seals with the air hose. She was alone, the last. The others had left, each one day apart promising to call if they found safety. The radio sat silent for seven desperate days as one by one they left walking towards the horizon following a different point of the compass.

It made no difference if she stayed or left now. There would only be 24 hours of air if she walked or if she stayed. She reminded herself, there was the hope of the unknown if she walked, as small as it might be.

The door hissed open and the fog lashed in making her flinch as it wrapped ephemeral tentacles around her seeking hungrily for any crease or seam it might exploit. A shiver danced up her spine as she stood still in fear. It poured around her staining the suit and the walls, consuming the air of the habitat.

She steeled herself and stepped across the threshold. Northwest was her direction. She clipped the last radio to her suit and walked into the dark. Her footsteps crunched in the brown grass as she walked across the dead farm, the dead land, the dead earth.

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Word count: 324

Entry for Trifecta Week Ninety-Four

Challenge word: Mask - Definition 3:  a protective covering for the face